


Queen of My Heart

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [13]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Infidelity, Married Couple, Partner Betrayal, Prompt Fic, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Bond and M are married - but then their marriage is tested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the bondkink comm on LJ. The prompt was _Obsessed!Craig!Bond/Dench!M [Dench!M/Silva]; Dark!AU, Infidelity, Betrayal, Violence._
> 
> I took the decision to age up Craig!Bond by about a decade, and age down M by about two decades in order to allow them to have had children together (so they're in the mid-50s at this point). I also took the decision to use Michael Kitchen's portrayal of Bill Tanner because he's of a similar age to both characters. 
> 
> Spoilers: Sort-of for Skyfall (but not really 'cos this is AU)  
> Disclaimer: Mine? I really wish!

James Bond is a happy man: he has a gorgeous wife, and two lovely children. He has just taken early retirement from his successful and lucrative career as a defence lawyer and is enjoying himself indulging his hobby of buying and refurbishing classic cars, which he then sells to wealthy car enthusiasts. His wife has recently been promoted to the head of MI6 – although no one else knows that her cover of working for the Foreign Office is just that, a cover. He didn't find out about her real job until they'd already been married a few years, when their then four year old son was kidnapped by a Chinese agent while they were out in Hong Kong. His wife, M as she is now known at MI6, had been head of Station H – the government's intelligence department in Hong Kong at the time. It had come as something of a shock to learn that his rather demure-looking wife, who barely topped five feet in her stockinged feet, was actually an intelligence operative with a string of agents and administrators under her control. But he loved his wife dearly, so he'd accepted the news with equanimity and adjusted his thinking accordingly.

He's not complacent in his happiness. He's aware that even though she's no longer engaged in field work, his wife is still something of a target to enemy intelligence agencies, so on those occasions when she's obliged to go overseas, he waits anxiously for her return though he's careful never to betray that anxiety as he knows she hates to be fussed over.

On this late Spring day James Bond is arriving home earlier than anticipated after delivering an Aston Martin DB5 to a satisfied client in Scotland. He's looking forward to taking a shower and changing out of his travel-stained clothes, and wondering if his wife will be at home for dinner this evening, when he opens the door to their London flat and gets the sort of shock no man wants to receive.

"Harder! More!"

That's his wife's voice, and he barely has time to wonder why she's home in the middle of the day when he realises just what she's doing: having vigorous sex the middle of the sitting room floor. 

"What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?" he yells, grabbing the man by the collar of the expensive silk shirt, which is the only thing he's wearing, and hauling him up.

His wife looks astounded, and he briefly wonders whether it's merely surprise that he's walked in on this, or the fact that he has the strength to lift the man, who's a good two or three inches taller, and several kilos heavier, than himself. 

The man begins to protest, even as he strikes out at Bond, who catches a hint of a Spanish accent. This, he realises, is his wife's favourite Double-0 agent, a man by the name of Raoul Silva. She doesn't often talk to Bond about her staff, but she's mentioned this one on a few occasions, though never that she's cuckolding him with this Silva.

Bond blocks Silva's strike, then hits him back and as his fist connects a red mist seems to descend before his eyes, and he's barely aware of the fact that the surprised agent is getting a thorough beating until the man collapses onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. 

Bond rests his aching hands on his knees, bent double and breathing heavily. He slowly becomes aware of his wife's voice talking to someone in the background, and he straightens up to see she's using her private line – the one that connects her directly to MI6's HQ.

She puts the phone down and he approaches her. "What was that all about?" he growls. She stands her ground, but there's an apprehensive look in her eyes, as if she's worried he'll turn on her next.

She gestures at the downed agent. "I called Bill Tanner to come and collect Silva," she says. "If he goes to a hospital, they'll want to know how he got in that state. I can't risk the security of everyone at Six by explaining it, so Bill's coming over to collect him and he'll be treated in our Infirmary."

"And how are you going to explain his condition to Bill Tanner, or any of your other precious staff?"

She shakes her head. "I'll think of something."

He glares at her, only now taking in her half-dressed state. "You'd better straighten yourself out before Tanner gets here," he says. 

"James – " 

"Don't," he growls. "I don't want to hear it." He grabs the briefcase he'd dropped just inside the door and stalks through to the bedroom where he strips hurriedly, then steps into the ensuite bathroom for the shower he needs even more badly than before.

007-007-007

When M tries the handle of their bedroom door, she finds James has locked it. She sighs, then turns back to the sitting room and gets herself a drink. She bitterly regrets what she's done: succumbing to Silva's charm and charisma is the sort of stupid rookie mistake she didn't make even when she _was_ a rookie. She'd already begun dating James Bond back then, and he'd been enough for her – more than enough, in fact. He had – and still has to this day – masses of charm and charisma of his own. He's always been there for her, supporting her with his whole heart through the stresses and vagaries of her job, never once complaining about the long hours she's worked, or the lack of time she's had to spare for him and their children. He'd been a rock when Tommy was kidnapped by the Chinese: calm, unflappable, and sensible, while she had initially panicked just like any other mother.

A knock at the door distracts her from her thoughts, and she hurries over, checking the camera on the intercom and seeing, with relief, that it's Bill Tanner and two medical officers from Six. She opens the door quickly, and directs the medics to Silva's prone form, then she and Bill retreat to the balcony.

"What happened?" asks Tanner worriedly.

She swallows. Bill Tanner is loyal to her, she knows. He's worked with and for her for years, and when she was appointed head of Six she hadn't hesitated to promote him to Chief of Staff. Nevertheless, admitting to him what's happened is the hardest thing she's ever had to do.

"James came home from Scotland early, and found me in flagrante with Silva."

Bill looks every bit as startled as she'd expected, but he kindly doesn't utter any sort of criticism. "I take it that he did that to Silva?" 

M nods. "To be honest, I didn't know he had it in him."

"Well, James is a red-blooded male," Bill says. "I can't say I'm hugely surprised." He rubs his brow thoughtfully. "What do you want me to put in the report?"

She shakes her head. "I have no idea," she says wearily. "Use your best judgement. I'm just worried about how on Earth I'm ever going to get James to forgive me. After all he's had to put up with because of my work, he didn't deserve this. How could I have been so stupid?"

Tanner looks as if he's wondering much the same thing, but he doesn't say so, he simply puts a tentative hand on her forearm. "Give him time to cool down, first. If you need somewhere to stay, let me know. You can use a safe house for a day or two."

M gives him a startled look. "You don't think he's going to get violent towards me, do you? Because he wouldn't."

Tanner's quick to deny such thoughts. "No, I was just thinking that James might want some space while he gets his head around this."

She sighs again. "Yes, you're right. I'll see what he says, assuming he's still actually speaking to me, and let you know."

Tanner nods, then steps back into the sitting room, and speaks briefly to the medical officers, before the three of them make their way out of the flat. M remains on the balcony outside the French windows, the rest of her Scotch in her hand. She watches as Silva's loaded into the back of the unmarked ambulance, and Tanner climbs in after him, then it drives off.

She's still standing there when James unlocks the bedroom door and crosses the sitting room to the balcony. She looks up at him, noting that his brown hair is still slightly damp from his shower, and his blue eyes are dark with emotion. She knows that other women would envy her this tall, strong man with laughter lines around his eyes and mouth. James Bond is a fit and healthy fifty-four year old with a sensual streak that she has always found very appealing. This makes her dalliance with Silva even more inexplicable, even to her.

"I'm going to stay at my club for a few days," he tells her, his voice clipped and his eyes not meeting hers. 

"I can move out," she says quickly, although to do so would be awkward.

"No." His tone is firm. "It's easier for me to go." He gestures at the private phone and her gratitude for his understanding makes her want to weep. "I love you very much, but I need some time to think."

She closes the distance between them and puts a hand on his arm. He doesn't shake her off, but he makes no move to touch her in return: right now she'd even have welcomed a slap.

"I am sorry, James," she says softly.

He looks down at her then, his mouth and eyes hard. "Sorry you did it, or sorry you got caught?" he asks.

"I'm sorry I did it," she says immediately. "But I'm also sorry you found out as you did."

"If the children ask, tell them I'm still in Scotland, on business," he says, then turns away. 

She watches him cross the room to collect a case and his briefcase from the bedroom doorway, then he lets himself out, and she finds herself silently weeping as she wonders if he's gone for good.

007-007-007

She heads back to work, visiting the Infirmary briefly for an update on Silva's condition. She doesn't go in to see him: at this moment she can't face the sight of him any more than she can stand the sight of herself. Once the doctors have filled her in she makes her way up to her own office, collecting Bill Tanner on the way. Eve Moneypenny gives her a surprised look, and she remembers that she'd told Eve she'd be out until five o'clock, and it's still only three. 

"I'm not taking any calls, Miss Moneypenny," she tells the younger woman, who nods. M can see the curiosity in her eyes, but knows she won't ask questions as she's too well-trained.

"Have you spoken to James? What did he say?" asks Tanner as soon as they're seated in M's office.

"Not a lot." She rubs a hand over her face. "He's gone to his club for a few days. He said he needed time to think."

"Understandable."

"What the hell am I going to do, Bill? What if he decides he wants a divorce? I don't think I could face that."

"Then you'd better hope he's a forgiving sort of man." She gives him a sharp look, then a resigned nod. "Can I ask you something?" 

She raises an eyebrow. "Of course."

"Why did you do it? I mean, I know plenty of women seem to find 006 very attractive, if not completely irresistible, but I didn't think you were one of them. And James – well, I'm totally straight, but even I'd go for him over Silva."

She twitches her lips at this, wondering just what her 'totally straight' husband would make of Bill's declaration, then she sobers again as she realises she might not get the chance to repeat the remark to him. 

"I don't know," she said. "All I can think is that I was struck by a temporary madness." Tanner gives her a long thoughtful look, and she frowns. "What?"

"Well, have you considered you might have been drugged?" he asks.

She's shocked by the suggestion. "No, I hadn't."

"Well, it's a possibility," he says. "I'll be back in a minute." He disappears, but returns within a few minutes carrying a small case such as she's seen the medics using.

He comes around to her side of the desk, and unfastens the case, folding it flat on the desk. "I'll need to take some blood," he tells her, "but not much."

She nods, then rolls up the three-quarter length sleeve of the light jacket she's wearing over her spring dress. She watches as Bill takes out a syringe and a small vial, which he sets on the desk beside the case, before he draws a few millilitres of blood from the inside of her arm. He fills the vial, then fiddles around with something unfamiliar in the case, before putting the vial into a slot in the middle of the case.

"This'll test your blood for any number of known toxins and drugs," he tells her. "It only takes about twenty minutes." He swabs at the spot on her arm where he'd inserted the needle, putting a small sticking plaster over it, then picks up the case and moves back to the other side of her desk.

"And what if it doesn't find anything?" she asks, rolling her sleeve back down.

"Then it must have been a fit of temporary madness," he said, with a little shrug.

"Do you think James is likely to accept that as an explanation?" she asks.

Tanner purses his lips. "I don't know." M sighs and he asks, with a tentative note in his voice. "Do you want me to try talking to him?"

"Would you?"

"I can try – if he'll see me."

"I'd be very grateful."

Tanner nods, then changes the subject, and they spend the next twenty minutes discussing the department's current missions. Once they're finished, Tanner checks the machine that's been analysing M's blood. She watches his face, and can tell immediately that she hasn't tested positive for anything. He looks up, his blue-grey eyes slightly pitying, and she sighs again. 

"Temporary fit of madness, then," she says resignedly.

"Sorry."

"Not your fault, Bill."

"I'd better be going. 004 is due to make contact in the next half hour."

"Of course. Send in Miss Moneypenny will you, please?"

He nods. "I'll give you a ring at home this evening and let you know if I was able to talk to James."

"Thank you."

007-007-007


	2. Chapter 2

Tanner finds James Bond in the bar of his club, and he takes a moment to assess the other man's state of mind before approaching him. Bond has a newspaper spread open on the table beside him, and only one glass, which contains a single measure of whiskey. As Tanner moves towards him, Bond turns a page, which Tanner takes as a hopeful sign since he doesn't appear to be brooding unduly.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks, stopping a respectful distance away.

Bond looks startled, then wary, but not antagonistic, and after a moment he nods, so Tanner sits down. Close up he can see lines of tension around Bond's mouth that he's sure weren't there the last time they met.

"Did she send you?" Bond asks.

Tanner shakes his head in quick denial. "I volunteered to come."

"Why?" Bond's blue eyes are full of challenge, Tanner notices.

"Because I want to help, if I can."

He grunts, then gestures to a waiter, who hurries across. "What are you drinking, Bill?"

"I'll have a Scotch on the rocks, please."

"Yes, sir." 

The waiter strides away again and Tanner settles himself more comfortably in his chair. The fact that Bond's invited him to drink with him can only be a good thing, he feels. If the other man was disinclined to discuss his marriage, he'd have had Bill thrown out on his ear, he knows.

The waiter returns with Tanner's drink, and he takes a small mouthful as he wonders how best to handle the discussion.

"Why'd she do it, Bill?" asks Bond, and Tanner can hear the hurt in the other man's voice.

"I don't know," he says honestly. "She doesn't either. She called it a temporary fit of madness, although I checked that she hadn't been drugged."

Bond looks taken aback, as if such a thing hadn't occurred to him, which isn't surprising – he's not trained to think of such things, as Tanner is.

"Thirty two years, we've been married," Bond says, rubbing a hand over his face. "Happily married, I thought, but now I wonder. How many more of her agents has she been screwing behind my back?" 

"I don't know, because I haven't asked M, but I believe this was the first time." Tanner swallows some more whiskey. "Do you want a divorce?"

"Christ, no!" Bond's answer is so immediate that Tanner doesn't doubt him for a moment. "Does she?"

Tanner shook his head. "No. I think she'd be devastated if it came to that."

"But how can I trust her again, after this?" Bond asks. "Every time she goes away, every time _I_ go away on business, I'll be wondering if she's taken some other man into our bed, or if she's just screwing him on the sitting room floor." He shudders, his eyes tightly shut.

Tanner winces and bites his tongue. He hadn't actually realised that Bond had caught M and Silva in the act in such a manner. He'd assumed that Bond and Silva had fought in the sitting room because the latter had been trying to leave the flat.

"I'm afraid I'm the wrong man to ask, James," Tanner says apologetically. "I've no idea how you rebuild trust in such circumstances. I doubt there's a textbook for it, either."

Bond snorts. "No." 

"You could try marriage guidance," Tanner suggests, though he strongly doubts either one of them would want to: M and Bond are, like him, old-fashioned enough not to be the sort to want to bring strangers into a situation such as this.

"And have some woman wanting us to discuss all the ins and outs of our marriage?" Bond asks scornfully. "No, thank you." 

"Just a suggestion," Tanner says mildly. 

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry Bill. This can't be the easiest situation for you."

"It's worse for you and M," he says immediately.

Tanner's known M and James Bond for fifteen years, and he knows that he's one of the few people in Six to have known them for so long. Of all the married couples of his acquaintance, before today, he'd have said theirs was the happiest marriage.

"Have you eaten?" Bond asks, and Tanner admits he hasn't. "Then let's go and get something. I might feel a little less hollow, then."

"You might," agrees Tanner, accepting the invitation.

007-007-007 

On the other side of London, M is having dinner with her PA, Eve Moneypenny. The younger woman had accepted her boss' invitation with alacrity, and M guessed that Eve was dying to know just what was going on: you didn't get very far in their job without a good deal of curiosity, amongst other traits, and the fact that 006 is in the Infirmary has caused some curiosity at work.

They'd stopped off at M's favourite Chinese on the way to her flat, so no cooking was necessary, which suited M perfectly.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Eve asks as M pours them both a glass of wine to go with their food.

"Not really, no." M settles cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table where the containers from the Chinese are spread out, then picks up some chopsticks.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Eve's own chopsticks are poised over a container of spring rolls, but her attention is on M.

"Not unless you've got a time machine – or know where Q-Branch have one tucked away."

Eve's eyebrows shoot up. "Not that I'm aware of, ma'am."

"No, I doubted I'd be so lucky," M says dryly. 

"Why do you want a time machine?"

"So I can go back to lunchtime and do this afternoon differently." M sighs, then picks up her glass and takes a gulp of wine. "My husband came home this afternoon, and caught me and Mr Silva together."

Eve's eyebrows go back up again and M can see she's struggling not to gape open-mouthed. "Together? As in – ?" She breaks off, apparently not daring to finish the question.

"He was fucking me on the floor," M says matter-of-factly.

"Shit!" whispers the younger woman. "What happened?"

"James beat Mr Silva unconscious."

"Really?" M nods. "Wow!"

"Why 'Wow!'?" asks M. Of all the reactions she'd anticipated, that isn't one she'd expected.

"Well, I know it's not very feminist or anything, but having a man beat up another man for you – it's pretty flattering, isn't it?"

M pauses in chewing to contemplate this point of view. She hadn't considered it at the time, she'd been too busy worrying that James might actually kill Silva, then wondering how she'd explain Silva's injuries to anyone else, to think about that aspect.

"Mr Bond's always seemed to me to be pretty devoted to you," Eve observes after several minutes of silence.

"He is," M agrees immediately. "When I was made head of Station H and sent to Hong Kong he never once made me think I should have turned down the post. He's always supported my career, despite the fact that his own was pretty demanding, and he never made me feel guilty about missing out on Sports Days or school plays or anything else the children did that I couldn't get to."

Eve nods, and eats some more, but M can see she's dying to ask further questions. "Provided you don't repeat anything you hear tonight outside of these four walls, you can ask whatever's on your mind."

Eve looks startled, as well she might. M's not often given to confiding in others, and when she does, it's usually either her husband or her Chief of Staff, both of whom she trusts implicitly, but right now she's feeling the need for another woman's point of view, and she's closer to Eve than anyone else at work.

"I suppose I'm wondering why you and Mr Silva got together," Eve says, looking a little hesitant, despite the permission she's just been given. "I mean, I've met Mr Bond a few times now and if he wasn't already married, I'd have been tempted to ask him out on a date."

M snorts, and Eve gives her a puzzled look. "Mr Tanner assured me earlier that even though he's 'totally straight', he would go for James over Mr Silva."

Eve smirks. "I guess we all have good taste then."

"Except me."

Eve shakes her head. "You married him."

"And then cuckolded him." She sighs. "I don't know why. It's not like 006 hasn't been flirting with me since he joined the Service – and James isn't neglectful, in fact, quite the reverse. In fact, if anyone could be accused of neglect, it's me. As I said to Mr Tanner this afternoon, it was a temporary fit of madness. But I'm over it."

"So that was the first time – ?" Once again Eve seems hesitant to finish a question.

"Yes. I've never betrayed James before today, and never will again, always assuming he agrees to come back rather than suing for a divorce."

"Do you think he will?"

"I honestly don't know what he'll do. I wouldn't blame him if he chose not to come back, but I hope to hell he will because he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe I should resign."

Eve initially looks horrified by the idea, then gradually grows thoughtful. "If you offered to resign, he'd probably refuse to let you, don't you think? I mean, you've worked hard at your career and he's always supported you. But offering to resign might make him feel he can trust you again."

"And what if he accepts my offer, rather than refusing it? He might feel that me leaving Six is the only way to ensure I'm not tempted to stray again."

Eve sighs. "He might. I suppose then you'd have to decide which you wanted more – your husband or your work."

M shakes her head. "There's no contest. James would have to come first. I couldn't do my job without his support."

007-007-007

The next day Eve passes on a message to say that Mr Bond will meet his wife for lunch tomorrow at 'Tony's', a favourite restaurant of theirs, and she realises that James must have consulted with Eve before arranging it because Wednesday is the only day she's free at lunchtime.

M arrives ridiculously early, feeling as nervous as a girl on her first date. Thinking of that reminds her of her first date with James. It's thirty-two years ago, but she still vividly recalls both their first meeting, and their first night together. He'd been in Paris, enjoying a long weekend away after a lengthy court case. She'd been a rookie agent, on the tail of a suspected Russian agent, and had quite literally run into James near the Eiffel Tower. She recalls how solid he'd felt when she'd barrelled into him, and how quickly he'd caught hold of her arms so that she hadn't fallen down. James had apologised (in fluent French), even though she'd been at fault, and after realising that she'd completely lost track of the Russian, she'd accepted his invitation to have a drink with him. 

M had resisted the temptation to spend the night with him, but only for twenty-four hours. During the interval she had discovered that her quarry had gone to ground, and left it to her technical team to see if they could find his hiding place, while she took the chance to get to know James Bond a little better. 

"Good afternoon, Marion." James' quiet greeting pulls her back to the present and she finds her husband looking down at her with a strictly neutral expression in his blue eyes.

"Hello James."

The waiter seats him, then proffers the wine list, but he waves it away, telling the young man precisely what he wants.

"Thank you for coming," he says.

"How could I not?" she asks, feeling a flare of anger. Does he think she values their marriage so lightly, then she winces mentally as she realises that he may well think that after what happened on Monday.

"Some crisis might have kept you away," he observes.

"Armageddon wouldn't have kept me away," she says, rather more forcefully than she'd intended.

James' eyebrows lift, but he doesn't answer until after the wine waiter's come and gone, and then the regular waiter has taken their order.

"How's Mr Silva?"

She raises an eyebrow of her own, surprised that he's asking. "He's mending," she says shortly. Silva is the last person she wants to discuss right now.

"And how are you?"

"Miserable. I miss you, James."

He nods, but doesn't speak until after their Caesar salads have been delivered. "I've missed you too," he says, and she notes hopefully that the admission isn't given grudgingly.

"Have you decided what you're going to do – about us, I mean?" M wonders if he can hear the tremor of uncertainty in her voice, then decides she doesn't care if he can: this is her husband, not the head of some enemy intelligence agency, she's allowed to show her emotions.

"I'm not going to divorce you, if that's what you're hoping for." She shakes her head, too relieved for the moment to object to his assumption. "You're _my_ wife, and I daresay it's old-fashioned of me, but if any man again dares to take what's rightfully mine by marriage, either with your consent or without it, I'll do to him what I did to your Mr Silva." He chews for a few moments before continuing, "In all the years we've been together, I've never once tried to tell you how to do your job, or interfered in any other way. I respected your right to have a career, and tried to support you, to the best of my abilities. But I am going to ask you to send Mr Silva away."

M can't help sighing with relief at this: she'd already made the decision to have Silva posted somewhere far away as she didn't feel 100% certain that he wouldn't want to try to pick up where they'd left off.

"Do you want me to resign?" she asks.

He looks surprised, and she realises that he hadn't even considered asking her to do such a thing. "No." He eats a few mouthfuls. "Could you give up your job?"

"If it was a choice between you and work, yes."

"But who's to say that you wouldn't bitterly resent me in another year or two?" He shakes his head. "No. I don't want you to resign, although if you choose to do so, I'd support your decision, as I always have."

"Thank you."

They finish their salads in silence, then James asks if she wants a dessert or some coffee, and they decide to share a pot of coffee before they part company. 

"Will you be home tonight?" she asks.

"Yes. Will you?"

M nods. "My last meeting should finish at six, so I should be home by six thirty at the latest."

"Good."

"Would you like to go away for Easter?"

"Where?" he asks, appearing surprised again.

"Paris?" He smiles suddenly and she is quite sure that he's recalling their first meeting just as she had done earlier. "Unless there's somewhere you'd prefer to go?"

"I was thinking about Skyfall," he says with a slight shrug. "We haven't been up there yet this year. Perhaps I could finally teach you how to fish?"

She feels a sudden blossoming of warmth in her chest and reaches across the table to catch his hand in hers. "I'd like that very much."

"Then I'll ring Mrs Abercrombie and ask her to notify Kincade, and get things ready." He lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles, and she wishes desperately that she didn't have a meeting to go to this afternoon. She would far rather spend the time with her husband. 

He must see something of this desire in her eyes because he gives her a coy smile. "I'll see you at six thirty, then?"

"Yes." She's suddenly breathless, and has to force herself to concentrate on making her farewells to him, then getting back to the office.

007-007-007

On Easter Saturday morning James Bond wakes slowly from an erotic dream to the realisation that his dream is actually being enacted: his wife of thirty-two years is currently giving him an exquisite blow-job. 

She looks up at him as he stirs, and it takes all his willpower not to come at the sight of her, blue eyes bright with mischief and her mouth full of his engorged prick.

"Bloody hell, woman!" he hisses when she squeezes the base of cock before slowly sliding him free.

"Good morning darling," she says, smirking up at him before she crawls back up the bed, and within his reach. 

"Come here," he growls, and pulls her towards him so that he can kiss her hungrily. He hears her moan of pleasure and forces himself to concentrate, sliding a hand between her thighs to begin stroking her pussy. 

He soon rolls them over so that she's sprawled on her back and he kisses a path down her body before retaliating in kind and plunging his tongue into her. It's still the quickest way he knows to bring her to orgasm so that she'll be ready to be fucked, and his balls are aching with his need to come.

He pushes his fingers and tongue into her, hearing her cries of pleasure and aware that she's alternately gripping his head and handfuls of the bedding as he drives her towards her first climax. 

"James, James! Yes! Ahhhh!" She's never very loud, but she is always very vocal in her appreciation of his efforts, and he pulls his mouth away, but continues to stroke her gently through the aftermath of her orgasm until she slumps limply back against the pillows.

He eases his fingers free of her clenching muscles, then moves up the bed to kiss her gently before he positions himself over her.

"All right?" he asks, and she gives him a wide, cheeky grin. 

"Fuck me, Mr Bond," she says.

He chuckles, then eases his throbbing cock inside her, sighing softly as she adjusts to him. He starts out slowly, but she urges him onwards and he finds his pace picking up until the bed is rocking slightly from the force of his thrusts, and then he's falling over the edge, and he can feel she's coming again too.

007-007-007

They eat a leisurely breakfast, recruiting their strength after a very satisfying couple of hours in bed, then they ride across the estate to the river where James is planning to teach her how to fish.

The three weeks since he came home and found his wife in flagrante with one of her Double-0 agents have been marked by efforts on the part of both of them to rebuild their trust in each other. M has made the effort to be home relatively early each evening so that they can have dinner together, and they've talked a good deal, particularly about their earliest years together. James has suggested a late summer holiday in Paris to coincide with their wedding anniversary, provided she can get away, and M is determined that they shall go, come hell or high water.

Two days before she and James had left for Skyfall, she went to see 006 in the Infirmary and confirmed that after his release on Easter Monday, he will be going to South America. He was far from happy at the news, but she had made it clear that he would be relocated, or he would be fired.

"I'll make you regret this," he snarled as she left the Infirmary, and while she didn't take the threat seriously, she did report it to Bill Tanner, who promised that Six would keep a close eye on the agent.

Right now, though, Silva is the last thing on her mind as she wades out into the river beside James, who is going to show her how to cast her line. He stands behind her, and guides her movements, then wades away to watch as she tries it for herself. 

They've been there about an hour when they both hear the pop, but it's M who recognises it for what it is – the sound of a gun fitted with a silencer being fired, and she turns swiftly, to see Silva standing on the river bank, a gun pointed in her direction. She reacts purely instinctively, whipping out the Baby Browning that's holstered on her thigh and shooting at Silva, who is shouting something unintelligible at her. She doesn't register his words because she's suddenly aware that James is no longer standing a few feet away and turning, she sees him face down in the river, his body already beginning to be pulled away by the current. 

M gives an incoherent yell of rage, then splashes over to him. Anger gives her unexpected strength and she manages to drag James onto his back. As she struggles to lift his head out of the water, she becomes aware of splashing and voices, and then Kincade is beside her, speaking softly into her ear.

"Come on lassie, let me take him. I've got him now."

M relinquishes her husband to the old gamekeeper, then becomes aware that the two people beside her are Eve Moneypenny and Bill Tanner. 

"W-w-what are you d-d-doing here?" she asks, stuttering from cold and shock.

"We found out this morning that Silva had left Six, discharged himself from the Infirmary last night," Tanner tells her, "so we came as fast as we could to warn you."

"James?" she asks.

"I'll go and see," Eve says, and wades ashore more rapidly, leaving the Chief of Staff to assist her boss.

"I'm sorry that we got here too late to stop Silva," Tanner says. "We had hoped to arrive first so that we could warn you, and set up an ambush before he got onto the estate."

M nods, her eyes fixed on the spot on the riverbank where Kincade has carefully laid down her husband and Eve is busy administering CPR, while talking in a rapid undertone. As Tanner helps M up onto the bank, she registers that Eve is talking to someone – a medic, she realises when she hears the words "gunshot wound" and "right shoulder". Looking down she sees that Silva has hit James in the shoulder and she shudders.

"Silva's dead," Tanner reports a few moments later, reappearing at M's side, although she hadn't been aware of him leaving, so focused is her attention on Eve's attempts to resuscitate James.

"Good," M says flatly. "It'll save us the trouble and publicity of a trial."

James suddenly coughs, and she kneels down beside him, holding his left shoulder in a firm grasp to stop him from trying to sit up too suddenly.

"I'm here," she says softly. "You're going to be all right."

"Marion?" 

"Yes, James, I'm here."

"What happened?" 

"Later," she says firmly. "We need to get you to a hospital, first."

"The chopper's waiting, ma'am," Eve tells her, and after a brief word with Kincade, M follows as James is carried across to the helicopter by Eve and Tanner.

"Are you all right?" Bill asks her quietly, under cover of the noise of their take-off.

"I thought I'd lost him," she says shakily, and is grateful when Tanner puts an arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

"He should be okay," Tanner says. "He's a strong man, and in good health."

"What made Silva do it?" she asks, as much to distract herself as to try to understand the day's events.

"Jealousy," Tanner says. "I went down to see him on Friday, after you'd headed up here, and he was raving on about how James Bond wasn't good enough for you. That no one who knew you could really believe you could love a man like Bond when there were men like himself around. To be honest, after about half an hour, I gave up trying to talk some sense into him, and arranged for Dr Hall to go and see him this morning. I blame myself for this."

"No," M says firmly. "It's not your fault, Bill. It's mine. I should never have let him seduce me. I was stupid enough to feel flattered that a man twenty years my junior wanted me. It's not a mistake I intend to make again."

007-007-007

James Bond smiles down at his wife as they stand arm-in-arm at the top of the Eiffel Tower, admiring Paris in the late summer sunshine. 

"Happy anniversary, my love." He leans down to kiss her, ignoring the crowd of tourists which surrounds them.

"Happy anniversary, James." She smiles up at him, grateful to be here with him after all they've been through in the last few months, and quite certain that he's the only man for her.


End file.
